Best Peoplepeople Poems
Daylight fades, a city pulsates, and traffic is reflected in store windows.
Hurrying headlights come out of the darkness.
They crisscross like dueling knights. People in the crosswalk scamper
as if squirrels and streetlights leer gleaming yellow eyes, like watchful hawks.
The shrill trumpets of the charging gale force winds, rattle an awning,
and newly planted maple saplings bend and sway
in random pairs. Set in concrete planters, they hang on by tender rooted toes.
Pages of a discarded newspaper are hurled into the air,
buoyed on the steely breath of a frigid winter evening.
Several leaflets scatter into the street and down the sidewalk,
into the path of one lone pedestrian.
He slaps away the sports page, that flies into his chapped, red face.
Without hesitation, this castaway vagrant, down and out
by the rape of hard times, will accept an offered dime,
from a passing man in a Red Sox ball cap.
Head bent low, face hidden, a worn and dirty pea coat
pulled tightly around his thin frame, he carries all his meager belongings
in a large paper grocery bag, wrinkled and beginning to tear.
Serving as his satchel, the brown bag, damp and worn,
still displays big bold red and black letters
advertising "Smart and Final Grocery"--"Located in Three Convenient Locations".
A city bus roars by, splashing through three days of rain,
and a siren and a blaring horn is heard from the next block.
The dark silhouetted outcast, stops for a moment,
peers into a sidewalk trash receptacle, then continues slowly down the sidewalk.
A taxi pulls up along the curb behind him, and the attractive couple,
dressed in evening wear, emerge, pay for their taxi, and arm in arm,
enter Mario's Italian Restaurant, the brick bistro
that sits on the corner of Broadway and 1st.
It begins to rain again, and across the street people open umbrellas
and like the afore mentioned squirrels, they scurry home to supper.
The lone man walks in the rain, his pace doesn't quicken, his voice never spoken,
a spirit broken, ............ his sack held together by circumstance.
A passerby takes a brief glance...just a quick, chanced moment,
to take notice of "Smart and Final's" last stance.
Why I Volunteer at Meals on Wheels
Why I volunteer at Meals on Wheels,
I do it to help people receive meals.
I had to get a photo id
This is for the people’s safety
At first I thought of it as just something to do
After that first day I realized that wasn’t true
I deliver a meal to the elderly and I do it with care
Some of the elderly may be in a wheelchair
The hot food is carried in a hot insulated bag
The cold food is carried in a cold insulated bag
It’s a good feeling to volunteer
The people appreciate that we care
I knock at the door and yell hello
I also check on them before I go
A stranger had said to me, thank you
She was thanking me for what I do
It’s a good feeling to volunteer
This is something we Americans do to show we care
From behind the bar I recall what led me here.
Not to see people fight over spots on a board.
But to bring them togather as friends.
Not drive them apart as enimies.
To see the glass stay full.
And the spirts to bring cheer.
Jokes hold truth.
As the jester I know pain.
Smells of perfume and smoke beautiful eye's
and that invisable desire.
We dance in hope of capturing life.
To embrace in darkness.
The page can never capture the passion
of two lovers spark.
From behind the bar I see life
for more than what others belive it is.
Jokes comfort as the flirt kisses the ego.
Napkins written with numbers passed encounters
promised.
Some never to know the light of day.
Hungover friends gather whiskey laced
plessures with a tinge of regret.
But life is one play my friends that no
single act shall we froget.
The drink sit's neat apon the bar.
You can see blindley for years.
And never know who people truley are.
Drinks as people dont last long.
They gleam the same under neon light.
So friends always mix them strong.
A fellow stranger's doubt will surely sense
Judgmental indiscretion of defect.
'Tween enemies pure hatred circumvents
The moral obligation to respect.
The various consistencies as friend,
Distill from swollen hearts this lonely ache,
With passion starts yet may abruptly end
So rarely people risk their hearts to break.
A lover's walk is not fatality,
Creating life two intimately share.
If nurtured, loved, and taught respectfully
Prosperity so gratefully will care.
Of all relations listed here above
Why is it people suffer feeling love?
(true story)
Robert Redford yelled at me, though he did it over the phone.
I worked at an answering service in town, graveyard and weekends alone.
A struggling new mother helping with bills, I always felt so tired;
a note said not to call him by 3, and basically here's what transpired:
I waited according to what the note said, but then in the aftermath,
although I followed instructions, I got only Redford's wrath.
He screamed that his meeting was still going on, and asked why I was calling.
But I had not done anything wrong, so his shouting at me was galling.
For weeks I had worked and phoned things in to Redford's secretary,
hoping one day "his" voice I"d hear, charming and not so contrary!
I still love his movies, his politics, and his Sundance for Indies is heaven!
But I'll never think of him quite the same as I did before '77.
All for that time he yelled at me, a someone he did not know.
I was just a stranger to him, so he let his anger flow.
My voice I cannot raise to a stranger. That is not my style.
Still, when I'm feeling down and out, do I always remember to smile?
To people in this world I've met, have I always great kindness shown?
When someone couldn't help me out, did I maybe start to groan?
And worse, do I sometimes barely glance at people serving me?
Do I sometimes briskly go on with my life, forgetting humanity?
Another time I remember, when in a Target store,
a different man, once famous, made my aging spirit soar.
I can't recall this singer's name. We know him for a song.
He sang, "The Lion Sleeps Tonight." (his fame did not last long.)
Promoting holiday music that day along with some other guys,
he looked at me, a stranger, and said, "YOu sure have beautiful eyes."
For Dane Ann's contest: Kindheartedness: What It Means To Me
Hello
Do you hear me ?
Do you hear what I say ?
Do you understand my logic ?
Of how games people play
Do you ever wonder
Why people live and die ?
Have you ever helped the homeless ?
Or seen a child cry ?
Ever looked into sorrow
And seen emptiness
Have you looked into tomorrow
And cared less and less
I say this to you
And hope you will confess
To the feelings that I have
For people everywhere
And to say one simple thing..........
I care
Eric (and sometimes not)
Everybody loves you
At least that’s what you think
See, there are some people who love you
The people who love you always got your back
There are other kinds of people, too
The ones who use you like you’re a paper plate,
They eat on you and when they done, they throw you away
You have to pick the right people to be in your life
‘Cause if you don’t, you’re gonna get hurt and that’s not alright
No mere artist or poet can ever portray in oil or verse,
The grandeur of this great land and its people so diverse.
Never since The Founding Fathers set in motion its creation,
Has there been on all the earth a more grand and glorious nation!
Generations of valiant patriots from The Revolution to the present day,
Who placed national destiny above their own, now lie 'neath hallowed clay.
They sacrificed to preserve the precious freedoms God upon us did bestow.
So much, so very much to each of those courageous souls we owe!
Though they seldom get a word of thanks and work for meager pay,
'Tis the ordinary blokes who keep the gears running smoothly every day.
The farmer, the truck driver, the plumber, the postman who delivers mail;
Patriotic, hard working folks who carry their lunch in a beat-up dinner pail.
'Tis the land of opportunity where you can be all you aspire to be,
And enjoy the inalienable rights that The Constitution doth guarantee.
Among these the freedom of speech and the right to worship as you choose.
We are independent souls, yet can agree to disagree about our divergent views!
The pioneering spirit is alive and well in the people of this youthful nation.
We are renowned worldwide for our ingenuity and our innovation.
When it comes to being a generous people, we will not be outdone.
'Tis the people that make America great when all is said and done!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
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Just a stone’s throw away, live the people who we’ll never know
We catch a glimpse into a life...
A house, a barn, hard working men
A vagrant walking through a field
A mother takes her child to school
Commuters on their way to work,
They look, ...a glance. We look, ...one chance
Just a stone’s throw away, live the people who we’ll never know
Salt of The Earth
Ordinary people
That’s who we are
Our triumphs
Our sacrifices
Loves
And torments
Go unsung
For the most part
Un-noticed by anyone
Ordinary people
Who’s lives may have suffered tradgedy
Quite sperate
From the world of celebrity
Who’s weight loss and weight gain
Who’s lives are sucked up
So avidly
Un-famous
Un-important
That’s what we are
Un-recognised heroines
And heroes
People that the world
Never knows
This celebrity culture
Demeans us
Turn our lives
To a paultry plethora
Of existence
Devoid of the glitter and pomp
Of celebrity red carpet
TV show sold money
Our faces un-immortalised
In the applause
Of the overpaid and wealthy
Of yet another publicity stunts
Awards
Our lives a mere daily
Rigmarol of mediocrity
As we dine on the scraps
Of news and gossip
Of the purile insignificance
Of celebrity
Ordinary people
That’s who we are
The un-discovered heroes
And heroines
Who’s backs and sweat
Hold up the scaffolding
Of the bright shinning
Neon distraction
Media circus
World of celebrity
Politicians
Models
Muscicians
Actors
Football players
All raking the cream
Which belongs to
Firemen
Cops
Nurses
And Doctors
Road sweepers
Trash collectors
Husbands
Fathers
Wives
Mothers
Making their lives ends meet
And staying afloat
Facing each day
Heroines and heroes
Of the common all
And for the common good
Though bemused and belittled
Misinformed
Mislead
And lied to
Still we emerge
As the salt of the Earth
Just ordinary
People
This poem was prompted by the recent death of celebrity Jade Goody, a tragedy indeed. I am
sure she will be sorely missed by her family. As will all the other ordinary people who
passed on recently, be missed by their families.
We were supposed to be discovered
By Columbus in Fourteen-ninety-eight,
But we had the Arawaks and Caribs
Already there, so Columbus was late.
We are a Cosmopolitan Nation
Of every color, creed, and race,
Call ourselves a Callaloo people
With all the mixture in this place.
The Black people or the Africans
Came to the Caribbean as slaves,
The Indians came as Indentured
As Laborers and not as Braves.
We also have a good blend
Of Chinese European, and Japanese,
Most of whom came to do business
Syrians, Koreans, and Lebanese.
But we thank God for our mixture
And now the whole world could see,
That people of many cultures
Can live together in harmony.
I am a differeent incarnation of a poet who garnered a lot of praise for writing a poem on a
subject matter a lot people thought of consequence, as do I. So if you took my advice and
showed my other poem to your children, cool, and now let them read about how to do what
brought six of my friends down in eight years…..I’m telling you dudes the s**t is deadly…..so
Little Johnnie or Tommy:
THINK ABOUT THE POOR MINK
Those are the breaks
For making mistakes
That’s how it goes
When weeds slay a rose
Look you all
because I’ve got something you probably don’t care to hear
But I have vehement verbiage I want to voice
I want to tell you people that I’ve been places that scare even Satan
Imagine that,
The father of fear
Making hs own fear clear
I’ve used items you all think are totally benign
A baby’s pacifier, an eye dropper, a medical needle , and a thin strip of paper from money
If anyone had any dollar bills left
…………because the end of the eyedropper is a bit too thin to hold the needle without what we
called a “collar”
It was more like a noose
That which we called a “collar” made to bring us relief
Oh, and this I never knew back then,
but a lot of shirts come with cotton on the back of a button.
So if we didn’t have cotton to filter out the particles that may clog your needle we’d use the
back of a button, a cigarette filter or invent something with junkie ingenuity.
And then you need a hairpin and a bottle top from a soda
And you use the hairpin as a handle for the little frying pan you cook the dope up in
I’ve seen people shooting dope in bodily areas you may not believe
Because either he or she had no viable veins they could find
So they shoot it in incredible places such as under their eyeball
Between their toes
All in an effort to make certain nobody knows
The genital area is excellent but mostly for a dude
Chicks don’t have as many places, and much thinner veins
The people moan
groan
The people mope
dope
The people try
cry
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The people believe the lies
ones that are clear
ones in a disguise
The people oft deny
give many tries
seek not the past
Don't ask
enough
whys?
Copyright McCuen 2009
When she came to a foreign land,
people failed to understand,
she wasn’t a pawn under a man’s command,
it was tradition,
she had to wear a hood in public,
even though it was difficult for recognition,
her face hidden in shadow,
and that’s wherever she’d go,
only the faint glint,
a slight hint,
of her beautiful brown eyes,
seemed to come alive,
and as a shadow she would glide,
not lose a stride,
filled with honor and filled with pride,
her beauty going undetected in one direction,
she spoke softly and nodded,
while some people would stare,
and others would even glare,
but she never had a fake grin on her face,
feigning indifference was a disgrace,
but not to her,
she liked people in general,
she loved to talk,
as she held her head up and continued her walk,
everywhere she went it was the same,
it was God she loved, and life she thirst,
but she felt no shame,
in being a woman first.
Over the flag rise it
And the people think
It can be catch
Why suffer the thinking
Of people who think they can
When the flag is down forever
Just forget about it
And walk to the sun.